H - 105: I Do My Job (Patreon)

The good news was that after taking a forcible nap, Cora felt significantly better. The bad was that she had lost so much time.

She was still stuffing hastily-gathered supplies into her pockets as she kicked shut the door to her chambers in the royal palace. It always took forever to hike from here to the gates; which one of her pompous idiot predecessors had insisted that the Court Mage must live and work in a traditional tower? Not only was it hell and gone from everything, it was drafty and would be one of the first targets in the event of dragon attack. She could just…

No, Cora insisted to herself, viciously pushing down the urge. Only at need. Only at great need! Every jump accelerated…made things worse. Not to mention creating a risk of someone seeing it, and every person who saw it drew closer to the inevitable day when someone who saw her teleporting would know what it signified when a conjurer did that. In a center of government in the Evervales, one had to assume one was always, always being watched.

Case in point.

“Ah, Cora, what excellent timing.” And there he was, in the corridor right outside her chambers and striding toward her: Clarent, none other than the spymaster.

“Clarent,” she said distractedly, raking fingers through her pale hair. It was undoubtedly still a mess…no, she had far more urgent things to do than wield a hairbrush. “I’m sorry, I’m on the way—”

“I know well the urgency of your current work, Cora, so take it as a sign of the urgency of mine that I am interrupting you,” he said seriously, stepping in front of her as she tried to brush past. “This will hopefully take only a minute of your time, but I must insist upon taking it.”

Of all the bloody…

Cora conjured a vial of stamina potion directly from her own pocket and swigged it down. “Well? What the hells is it, then?”

Clarent’s eyes fixed on the potion, though his face gave away nothing. It didn’t need to, she knew very well his opinions on this and related subjects.

“There was an incursion into the royal records,” he said. “Into the most secure chamber, where the most classified documents are kept. Whoever did this managed to waltz right pass all your wards, the royal guards, and my own traps without registering a trace, get what they wanted, and disappear as completely as they came. And in what I can only take as a deliberate message to us, they left cabinets standing wide, drawers extended, and files sitting open to directly to the sections they pilfered.”

She stared at him, blinking twice. “What? How the—my wards may not be the strongest there are, that’s not my specialization, but that’s why we have layers of defenses!”

“In the great game, as in any game, one must always expect to eventually encounter a player who outclasses one as much as a dragon does a mouse. Such monsters do exist in our world. It seems one such visited the royal palace of Boisverd and stole several personal files pertaining to you, in particular, Cora d’Acron.”

Cora stared at him. She could not, in that moment, even imagine what kind of expression she must be making. Her brain was filled entirely with white light and screams.

“Procedures being what they are,” Clarent continued, watching her with a solicitous expression she knew to be deceptive, “I have to regard you on paper as a suspect, but you and I both know there’s no value in pursuing that. This does nothing but cast suspicion on you, and with all due respect, Cora, while I’m sure you could bypass your own defenses, I can’t see you getting so neatly through mine. No, whatever is going one, at least one objective of the intruder was clearly to induce me to examine you more closely. And given that your current project involves…figures such as I alluded to, who are doubtless capable of this feat… Well.”

“No.” Cora rubbed at her eyes with both fists. “No, no. She could— I mean, they could do such a thing, but they wouldn’t. They don’t play games like this, too contemptuous of mortals and of us in particular. If they knew…everyone would already be dead.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Clarent agreed. “It is a prospect that must be considered, however. When we are in the dark and so catastrophically outmatched, all prospects must at least be considered. Whoever was able to achieve this felt it worth their time to point a finger at you. You are therefore one of my very few prospects for narrowing down a list of suspects.”

“I…I don’t…” she ran fingers through her hair again, doubtless only making it stick up further. “Someone powerful enough to do that? The dragons are the only prospect I can even imagine. Clarent, I know I’m not the most sociable of people, but believe it or not I simply haven’t left behind many enemies. I do my job and mind my own business!”

“It was fairly clear from context that the Verdi Herons did something to put you to sleep,” the spymaster said, still ever so mildly. “The Queen could come down on them for it, but I advised her against it. I know Bronzmun too well; he was likely just concerned for your well-being, for which I cannot blame him. Can you think of any other conflicts from your adventuring days, Cora? The right kind of adventurer could be exactly the actor we’re looking for.”

“My… Clarent, those days were…brief. And it was early in my life, I just wasn’t powerful enough to be sent up against anyone else…um, powerful.”

He nodded. “That may still hold the clue, regardless. I am still attempting to ascertain the exact contents of all the files taken, but at least one pertained to your adventuring career. At least…the very end.”

She twitched. Embarrassing as it was, she did.

“I recall the broad strokes of the story,” Clarent said, and now his expression was outright solicitous. “I know that must be an extraordinarily painful memory, Cora, and I am sorry to bring it up. If you can tell me anything that might be of help… Well, against someone to whom our defenses are nothing, I truly don’t know what we can do. But if we can learn who is trying to undermine you, and why they would take such oblique steps when it’s clear they could just as easily slit any of our throats in the night… If we have knowledge, we can devise a strategy.”

“I don’t…why now?” Cora heard the whine breaking into her own voice and hated it. “In my whole life I’ve never been of interest to anyone with that kind of power. Clarent, there is no possible way this is a coincidence, you can see that, right?”

“Coincidence is one of the many things I cannot yet rule out, but I’m inclined to agree with you. Since we are also in agreement that this measure is totally uncharacteristic of the dragons, my best working theory is that another party has learned of your campaign and wishes to interfere. There is, for example, that portal mage who lives near Dragonvale.”

“Meshabedan,” she hissed, clenching her fists. “Yes…but also no. A portal mage could do what you describe if anyone could, but he’s even less likely to than the damn dragons! That one’s a recluse who hates other people’s plots. Clarent, I don’t know.”

He nodded. “I understand. Regrettably, then, my work here seems to be done. Be aware as you proceed that some player other than the dragons is taking an interest. For my part, I will continue to pursue such leads as exist. Backups of some of those files are not available, but your records from your old guild were already en route. Even if something happens to those, the guild will still have copies.”

The whirling chaos inside her head abruptly stilled. Cora’s focus narrowed to a single point, her awareness filled only with the spymaster’s inscrutable expression.

“Why had you already ordered copies of my previous records?”

“It’s part of the job,” he said. So mild, so offhanded; did she not know what kind of creature Clarent was, she might even have believed it. A Vale spymaster was never anything but a serpent coiled to strike. “There is no need to worry, neither the Queen nor I have any doubts about your diligence or loyalty. My department regularly conducts unprompted investigations of random figures attached to her Majesty’s government. Keeping spies actively working is the only way to keep them effective, and as I’m sure you’re aware, the nest of weasels that inevitably accumulates around a royal court must be constantly watched out of basic diligence. If a moment comes in which my people see no looming threats, we go looking for them. It’s never personal.”

He was watching her with those languid eyes, undoubtedly seeing ten times as much as he gave away. Cora desperately scanned through her memories of the last few minutes. Clarent had been in total control of this conversation from the beginning. What had he prompted her to give away?

His eyes shifted to her hand, and finally, the merest flicker of disapproval crossed his features.

“I know I’ve already said my piece on this, Cora, but I am going to repeat it: I worry. There is no substitute for proper rest. Nothing you’re doing is expedited by going at it sleep-deprived and sloppy.”

She looked down at her own hand. Oh… That was not a bottle of stamina potion, though anyone who didn’t recognize it could be forgiven for making that assumption. By happenstance, the frosted blue glass was almost the same shade as the labels traditionally put on stamina vials.

More importantly, why was she holding… Oh, right. Now she remembered conjuring it to hand out of her personal stash of relics. She had not…consciously…decided to do that. But reflex had kicked in, and it was here now.

“I can’t rest yet,” Cora said absently, staring at the bottle. “I’m not… Everything’s so close to the end, and I don’t have time. I just have to…to get through this, and then one way or another I’ll be resting, all right. Hopefully I can clean up all the mess after. That, or the next Court Mage will have to.”

“If you find yourself voicing that kind of talk, it’s time to step back,” Clarent stated. “If the stakes are too high to let you rest, they are too high to go at this at less than your full capacity. The Crown has other assets, Cora. Call on them.”

“You know why I can’t,” she hissed, feeling pressure begin to squeeze her throat. “The Crown can’t be implicated if I fail…”

“This is the desperation of a person trapped in a cave-in,” he said. “You need to be here, now, not there and then.”

She twitched again. He knew. He knew…something. How much did he know?

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Clarent.”

The spymaster’s instincts were impressive; he started to move instantly, but all she had to do was pull the cap from the bottle. She was already holding it with the neck facing him.

Clarent vanished; there was only smoke and light streaming into the open mouth of the bottle, and then she had slammed the stopper back in and she was alone again.

“It’s fine,” Cora whispered to herself, staring at the no-longer-empty djinn’s bottle in her hand. “It’s…it’ll be fine. It’s just for a little while. I’m almost done, I’ll put everything right once—”

“Yeesh, I don’t think the poor guy deserved that.”

She yelled and violently jumped away, spinning in place and looking for the source of her voice.

Her shadow, which had not jumped with her, held up a wagging finger to chastise her from the wall opposite the windows.

“C’mon, Cora, you know you’re not supposed to put people in those. Conjuring yourself is one thing; this is starting to be—”

“Oh, shut up!” she barked. “What the hells do you want, now? Can you not see I’m busy?”

“Oh, that I can; that’s why I’m here, my friend. Sorry to say it, but you’re about to be busier. It’s time to move out.”

She goggled at the dark shape on the wall, her vision momentarily blurring. “What?”

“I said, it’s time. The consorts are about to move. That opening should last for a few days, but we can’t say how long exactly, so hours matter. Minutes matter. If we can’t settle Dragonvale before they get back, there won’t be another chance.”

“Now? You had to do this now?”

“Hey, blame Savasmittar, not me. I told you up front, all I could ever do was prod him into motion. You don’t control a canny old lizard like that—and speaking of, there’s also no guarantee he’ll react in exactly the way we’d hoped. So…time’s wasting and events are uncertain. If you’re not gonna drop this now, we’ve gotta move.”

“Shit. Shit!” She swiveled in place, trying to cram her jumbled thoughts into linear order and looking back at her chambers, then up the hall. First she needed…first…

“Dropping it is still on the table, Cora,” the shadow said gently. “I was not expecting you to be in the kind of trouble you will be for abducting the royal spymaster, but I can still get you somewhere…if not safe, at least neutral, and we can go from there. Let the old boy out of the bottle, we’ll get you on a ship, and see about—”

“Oh, shut up with that,” she snarled. “No more of your bullshit, it’s long past too late for me and you know it! I am going to rescue my princess, secure the future of my kingdom, and get rid of that damned wyrm, and after that I don’t care what happens to me. Now shut up and let me work!”

Turning on her heel, she dashed back to her door, fumbling with the key. She just had a grab a few things—a few more things, some key items she hadn’t expected to need just yet…

Behind, her shadow remained on the wall, head tilted inquisitively to one side as it silently watched her flail.